Waiting to Believe (4 page)

“Greg?”

He shook his head. Turning the key, the old engine sputtered to life. He made his way slowly down the rutted road. He swung the truck out onto the county road, gravel kicking up behind him as he shifted into third and pushed down hard on the accelerator. This had been, he knew, the last trip to their glen.

7

“Did you hear the news?” Bridget asked as she forked a drumstick onto her plate.

“What news?” came the multiple replies.

“Marilyn Monroe killed herself. I just heard it on the radio!”

Rose reached for the platter of chicken. “Oh, that Marilyn Monroe! She's always up to something!” She lifted a thigh from the platter before passing it to Kenneth.

He took it from her, a weary look on his face. “Up to something? Yes, I'd say she's really up to something this time,” he muttered.

Kacey picked at her food. Kenneth watched her from the corner of his eye. “I'd rather hear from Kacey why the tomatoes aren't in yet.” There was an edge in his voice.

Kacey's face reddened. “It's still early,” she replied without looking up. “Grandma always said don't put them in till after Memorial Day.”

Kenneth laid down his fork. “It
is
after Memorial Day, Kacey! Where in the world's your head?”

Joseph glanced at his sullen sister. “She's cranky 'cuz Greg ditched her.”

Kacey whirled on the eleven-year-old, her voice tight with anger. “He did
not
ditch me!”

“Well, if he didn't ditch you, where is he then? He hasn't been over for a long time!”

“If you must know,
I
broke up with
him
.”

A groan from around the table. Maureen looked dismayed. “Oh, Kacey, why'd you do that? I
love
Greg!”

“Mind your own business, Maureen!” Rose stood up and moved to the counter, rummaging in the cupboard. “You can't possibly know what he's really like. No one can, ‘til you live with a person awhile!”

Kenneth frowned at his wife. “This isn't about you, Rose! Let the girl talk!” Kenneth snapped.

“Dad. Mom. Please.” The fork in her hand trembled. In her head, the words of the poem were ringing insistently.
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days, I fled Him . . .

A hush fell over the table. She took a deep breath and began. “Greg and I
did
break up, and I should have told you. I feel badly about it, but I knew I had to do it.”

“Why?” Maureen repeated her question.

Kacey picked up her napkin, then laid it down again, smoothing it with her hand. “Because it became clear to me that we weren't going to have a future together.”

Maureen was insistent. “Why
not
?”

“Because I finally know what I want to do with my life. It's been a long time in coming but I know now.” She paused as all eyes turned toward her. “I'm applying to Blessed Sacrament. I want to be a nun.”

A gasp rose in the air from around the table. “Kacey!” Kenneth exploded with joy, his hands slapping the table.

“Whoa!” Maureen exclaimed. At fourteen, that thought was inconceivable.

Bridget's mouth opened wide in astonishment but no words came out. Instead, tears sprang to her eyes. Rose paled instantly, her hands flying to her throat. Only Kenneth displayed pleasure, grinning widely.

“Why would you do that?” Gerald asked. Even he was sobered by his sister's announcement.

“It's hard to say. I've known for a long time that I want to do something meaningful with my life. I want to do good.”

Rose slammed the cupboard door. “Be a social worker then!”

Kenneth's hand came up in a silencing motion. He took off his glasses, his eyes never leaving Kacey's small face. “Kacey. A nun.” For all their devotion to the church, no Doyle had ever entered religious life. His daughter. The ultimate gift.

Kacey felt relief to have spoken the words. She breathed more easily. “I know it's late to be telling you and it's late to be applying. It just took me a long time to make up my mind.”

Kenneth leaned back in his chair, pleasure spread across his face. “Don't you worry about getting in! I know the monsignor. I'll get you in!”

Rose was not to be denied. “Wait a minute! We need to talk about this!”

“What's there to talk about?” Kenneth challenged. “She knows what she wants!”

“She doesn't!” Rose shouted back. “She's too young! She's too young to make such a decision!”

The younger children sat in stunned silence. Finally Joseph spoke in a soft, uncertain voice. “Who'll coach my soccer team this fall, Kace? You promised.” Gerald kicked him under the table.

“I'm telling you, this is too fast!” Rose was frantic. She stood at the counter, hands clenched at her throat. “She's making a mistake!”

“Mistake? It's not a mistake to serve the church!” Kenneth roared.

Kacey slumped back into her chair.
Oh
, she thought,
it'll be so good to get away from this
.

One by one, the children left their places at the table and wandered from the room, each trying to comprehend Kacey's decision. The platter of chicken sat in front of Kacey, fat congealing around the edges. She carried it and the bowl of mashed potatoes to the counter, pushed the kitchen door open, and walked onto the porch and down into the yard.

Now began the long good-bye.

8

Kenneth knew he'd find Kacey in the barn. He had waited, giving her time to collect herself and giving himself time to calm down after the confrontation with Rose. He had no idea what response Kacey had expected from her family, but this had to have shaken her.

She stood by Two Spot, brushing and nuzzling the little horse, tears still visible on her pale cheeks. She didn't look up as he approached.

“Thought I'd find you here,” he began, reaching out to give the mare a stroke.

“Well, that was a real show stopper, huh?” Her fragility revealed itself in her husky voice.

Kenneth chuckled. “Can't recall one to top it.”

Kacey turned from Two Spot to face her father. “You don't think I'm making a mistake, do you?”

“There's no finer calling, Kace.”

“Oh, Dad, I know that. But what do you think about
me
? This isn't about some ‘calling.' This is about me! My life!”

The urgency in her tone drove the clichés from his mind. She was right. He was chagrined. “You've been talking to others about it. The nuns, Father O'Hearn. Praying about it.”

“I've talked to Sister Evangeline. A few times. That's it.”

“Well, and praying,” he repeated.

“Praying? I dunno. I've tried. Praying doesn't come easy for me. It's more like an armlock on my mind that says I should do this.”

Two Spot swung her head around, nudging Kacey to continue brushing. Kenneth searched her face. He didn't know how to proceed. “Do you
want
to do this, Kacey? I'm confused.”

She moved around to Two Spot's other side. “It's what I think I should do.
Need
to do, you know? But it's not real clear to me how it's happened. I've never really had a very personal connection to God.”

“Kacey!”

“It's true, Dad. I feel a stronger connection with Sister Evangeline or Sister Mary Margaret. They're strong women. Role models for me. I want to be like them.”

She turned to her perplexed father. “When I think about my life, what I want to do, I just get stuck. I guess that's where God comes in.” She fell silent, looking at the man she both loved and feared. She wanted to cry out to him for help. But not even he, with all his power, could help her.

Finally, she laid the brush on the bench, shaking her head slowly as she gave Two Spot a pat before walking from the stall. There would be no more talk tonight. Kenneth, still puzzled, realized it, too. But he felt relief sweep over him. “C'mon, Kace. Let's get some ice cream.”

Kacey sat alone at the kitchen table, empty ice cream bowl still in front of her. It was after ten, and the house had quieted down. Sleep was still far off for her.

She needed to do one more thing. Picking up the phone, she dialed the Saunders' number. “Greg? I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the glen?”

“I'll be right there!” Kacey could hear his excitement. She grimaced.

She was waiting for him when she saw the headlights of his truck jumping down the bumpy road. Sitting on the ground, leaning against a massive oak, her knees were pulled up in front of her, arms tight around them.

He hurried from the truck, smiling. She rose as he loped up to her. “Was I glad to get your call!”

He reached out his arms, but she avoided his embrace. “I've got something to tell you,” she said. Taking his hand, she pulled him down to sit beside her in the grass.

“What?” His smile disappeared.

“You got the wrong idea from my call. I don't know how else to do this but just to blurt it out.” She swallowed. “I've made up my mind what I want to do in the fall. I'm not going to college.” He frowned. She plunged ahead. “I've decided to enter Blessed Sacrament Convent.”

She heard a sharp intake of breath. “Kacey, what in the world—” He stopped himself. “Kacey.”

His hand had slipped from hers, but she took it back. “I know this is a shock.”

“I had no idea! You've never said a word!”

“I know, I know. I've wanted to talk to you about it, but I haven't talked to anyone.”

“But—”

She interrupted him. “I didn't handle it well. I see that. I kept waiting till I was sure, and then when I was, I didn't know how to tell you.” She paused. “You know how much I've cared for you.
Still
care for you.”

He shook his head slowly. “A nun. I can't believe it,” he repeated.

“Oh, Greg, I'm sorry.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. Then, pulling him to her, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered.

She didn't turn on lights as she made her way through the dark house to her room. Her body felt weary, heavy. So did her heart.

From down the hall, she heard the rumble of her father's snoring, her mother's uneven breathing. But sleep wouldn't come to Kacey. She played and replayed the events of the day. She tried to recall exactly what she had said. Something about wanting to do good.
Oh, there's got to be more to it than that!

Feeling a chill, she pulled the thin summer blanket up around her shoulders. She thought of Annie, so far from home now, and the comfort of spooning up against her. She lay alone in the double bed, wishing for her older sister.

Moonlight danced delicately through the window onto the yellow-flowered wallpaper. The lace curtain fluttered with the nighttime breeze. All seemed peaceful in the little room, but turmoil stirred within Kacey.

Her mind wandered back through the weeks and months since her choir room conversation with Sister Evangeline.
She got it
, Kacey thought,
she got it before I did
.
Kacey closed her eyes, recalling the scene as one would a movie.

“Ah,” the old nun had murmured. “‘The Hound of Heaven.'” Kacey had surprised herself by recalling the poem. Now she remembered how her heart had lurched as she dredged up those words, which precisely conveyed the flight and the pursuit she was experiencing:

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days.

I fled Him. I hid from Him.

Tears trailed down her cool cheeks, collecting on the pillow. She turned her head toward the window, to the star-scattered sky beyond.
Oh, God
, she cried silently.
You've got to help me. I don't know if I can do this.
And then she realized her cry was, in fact, a prayer. A prayer to that relentless Hound of Heaven.

9

The unrest which followed Kacey's announcement became palpable. Only Kenneth seemed sure of it.

He had not been able to contain his pleasure the next day as he hurried up the steps of the Holy Family rectory, heading for Father Timothy O'Hearn's private office. The aging, ivy-covered brick house smelled of cigars and Old English furniture polish.

Kenneth knocked once, then entered. He found the old priest seated in an easy chair by his fireplace, a glass of sherry in his hand and a book of Thomas Aquinas in his lap. “Tim! I'm sorry! I should have called, but—”

“Good Lord, Kenneth! What is it?” The priest rose from his chair, with a look of concern.

“No, no, no! Nothing bad! Just the opposite. I've got great news!” Kenneth rushed forward and began shaking Father O'Hearn's hand. “Kacey's decided to enter the convent. I couldn't wait to tell you!”

Timothy O'Hearn's wrinkled and ruddy face reflected his surprise. “Kacey? Praise be!” He motioned Kenneth to the chair opposite his. Kenneth sat down while O'Hearn walked stiffly to his liquor cabinet. “Sherry?”